Romantically Challenged (25 page)

“Great,” I said.

We stood in the entranceway of the kitchen, neither of us knowing what to say next, until the redhead interrupted. I was blocking her way. I stepped aside so she could exit the kitchen with her silver tray.

“It was good seeing you, Joe,” I said when the redhead was out of earshot. I wanted to get away from him and I really did have to pee. I left my drink on the counter and pushed through the crowd towards the archway and the second door on the left. Luckily, there wasn’t a line.

I stayed in there a long time. I pulled up on the roots of my hair in a futile attempt to make it look full and thick, re-applied my dusty rose lipstick and then wiped half of it off with a tissue so it would look natural, and thought about Noah and Joe.

It had been months since Joe had thrown me in the pool and I stole his car. He’d been a good sport about that, all things considered. And he looked great, as always. But I was with Noah. Noah was the one I wanted.

Noah was good-looking too, I reminded myself. He was just different from Joe. Polished rather than merely sexy, but no less attractive. More importantly, Noah was a grown-up. He had a good career, a nice car, and a house with a lawn. Noah was stable and knew what he wanted. Joe was still finding himself. I wanted to be with someone who was already found. I wanted to be with Noah. Or at least I wanted to marry Noah. I still wanted to sleep with Joe.

My reverie was interrupted by pounding on the door. I relinquished the bathroom to two twentysomethings in stiletto heels, one of whom looked like she was about to be sick. I headed back to the living room and back to Noah.

“Where have you been?” he asked when I found him by the fireplace.

“Searching for the bathroom,” I said. “Then waiting in line.”

“I better go take my place,” he said and headed toward the archway.

“I’d try a different one if I were you. The girl behind me didn’t look too good.”

“Thanks,” he said and walked off in the opposite direction.

I wandered around looking for someone I knew or an empty chair. I didn’t find either. But Joe found me.

“You left your drink in the kitchen,” he said and handed me a fresh mojito.

“I know. I wasn’t planning on drinking it.”

“On the wagon?”

“No, just driving.”

He nodded. Driving drunk was always a bad idea, but on dark, twisty, canyon roads it was suicidal.

“Are you a friend of Ron?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “But my date is.”

His eyebrows raised. “Serious?”

“Potentially.”

“That must mean he’s not a wannabe?”

Apparently he hadn’t forgotten our last date either. “No, he’s a lawyer too.”

“How nice for you. The two of you can argue together all night long.”

His sarcasm made him less appealing. Maybe that was a good thing. “How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“You know me. I just like to pick up drunk women and carry them home.”

“I’m sure that’s not too difficult in your line of work.”

“Slightly more difficult lately,” he said. “Now I’m just cooking and organizing.”

A small improvement, but an improvement nonetheless. “Are you still working for your aunt?”

“Yes, but she’s decided she wants to semi-retire so I’m running a lot of the events now. At least the smaller parties like this one.”

Noah came up behind me and kissed the top of my head. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and asked, “Ready to go, honey?”

That was the most demonstrative he’d been all evening and the first time he’d ever called me “honey.” What was going on here? Could he be jealous of Joe? How much had he had to drink?

“Noah, this is Joe Stein. He’s catering the party. Joe, this is Noah Greeley.” They shook hands, but neither seemed pleased to meet the other.

“We should really be heading out,” Noah said.

I couldn’t imagine why he was in such a hurry to leave, but I had no great desire to stay either.

“I really need to get back to work,” Joe said. “It was good seeing you, Julie.” He bent down as if he was kissing my cheek, and whispered “call me” in my ear.

* * *

At first I was a little annoyed with both of them. It wouldn’t have surprised me if one of them had peed a circle around me to mark his territory. But then I realized I should be flattered. If Noah was jealous because he saw me talking to Joe then that was a good thing. That had to mean he really liked me. What else could it mean?

“Earth to Julie,” Noah yelled in my ear.

“What?”

“I asked how you knew that caterer guy?”

“I met him at a party.”

“Was he catering that one too?”

I didn’t like his snide tone. “Bartending,” I said and changed the subject. “Why were you in such a hurry to leave?”

He smiled and his whole demeanor changed. “I just couldn’t wait to get you all to myself.”

That was exactly what I wanted to hear.

Score

Noah directed me out of Beachwood Canyon and back to his house in West Hollywood. He spent the whole drive droning on about some important guy he’d met at the party. I didn’t care what we talked about, as long as it wasn’t Joe.

I pulled into Noah’s driveway and left the engine running. I expected to be invited in, but I didn’t want to seem presumptuous.

“Would you like to come in for a drink?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I should,” I said coyly. “I’m driving.”

“I promise if you get too drunk I’ll make you spend the night.” Then he kissed me. It was like the first time again, long and slow and warm, except this time he tasted like minty alcohol instead of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Noah gave me the grand tour. Living room, dining room, kitchen, master bedroom, bath and home office. It was tastefully decorated with leather couches and wood furniture. It wasn’t my style, it was way too dark, but that would be easy to remedy. The house had potential and I already loved the remodeled kitchen.

Noah poured us each a glass of cabernet and popped a CD onto the stereo. Diana Krall’s “Love Scenes” hummed from the surround sound speakers. I sat down on the couch and Noah followed, picking up where he’d left off in the car.

Before long, both of our shirts were off and he was massaging my nipples through my bra. They didn’t need much encouragement to stand up straight. But I was distracted by my urgent need to pee again. I would have to stop drinking so much water, no matter how good it was supposed to be for my skin. When Noah reached for my zipper, I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. I excused myself and headed to the bathroom.

I tried to be quick this time. I didn’t even bother to fix my hair and makeup. But I did check my breath. I didn’t think the mojitos and the wine were a good combination, so I opened Noah’s medicine cabinet looking for mouthwash. I found a bottle of Scope, along with the usual aspirin and Band-Aids, and an unusually extensive assortment of hair-care products. No wonder his hair always looked so good.

After I gargled and returned the mouthwash to Noah’s medicine cabinet in what I hoped was exactly the same position it had been in before I’d borrowed it, I headed back to the living room. I found Noah lying on the couch with his head resting on a throw pillow and his eyes closed. I shut the lamp and laid down next to him. He didn’t move.

“Noah,” I whispered and rubbed up against him.

All he said was “Hmmm” and rolled over on his other side with his back towards me.

I got up and put the light back on. “Noah,” I yelled.

He opened his eyes, smiled at me, and closed them again with his forearm shielding them from the light.

I grabbed my purse and slammed the front door on my way out of the house. Then I sat in my car and fumed. I was hoping the noise would’ve woken him and he would come outside looking for me. After two minutes of waiting, I gave up and drove home.

 I suppose it could’ve been worse. He could’ve fallen asleep
while
we were fooling around. At least this way I could tell myself he’d just had too much to drink. But at this rate, I was never going to get laid!

The Morning After

Noah called the next morning.

“How are you doing on this beautiful morning?” he asked, sounding refreshed and revived. Ten hours of sleep will do that for a person.

“I’ve been better.” I was tired and cranky from my sleepless night. I should’ve taken a cold shower before I went to bed.

“I wish you were here with me,” he said.

“I didn’t think there was room for both of us on your couch.” A tad bitchy, but I didn’t care.

“Sorry about that. I had a lot of late nights last week and a few too many drinks at the party. I guess I just needed to catch up on my sleep.”

“Apparently.” I wasn’t going to let him off so easy. He was saying all the right things, but my bruised ego still needed some massaging.

“I’d like to make it up to you.”

“I’m listening.”

“I thought I could start by taking you out to breakfast. Then maybe a drive along PCH or a museum. Whatever you want.”

I was softening. “I suppose I could do that.”

“Great. Why don’t you pick me up and we’ll go from here.”

* * *

I showered, blew dry my hair and applied my makeup, then I climbed into a pair of jeans that weren’t particularly comfortable but, according to Kaitlyn, made my ass look great. I was debating between the plum v-neck sweater and the burgundy cotton shirt when the phone rang. I assumed it was Noah wondering where the hell I was. I hadn’t even left the house yet, and I was already ten minutes late.

“I’ll be right there,” I said when I picked up the phone.

“Julie?” It wasn’t Noah.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Joe. From last night. Who did you think it was?”

“Just a friend.” I don’t know why I lied to him.

“The same friend you were with last night?”

We were not having that conversation. “What do you want, Joe?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, his name is Noah. Is that what you called to talk about?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.”

“Listen, Joe, I’m flattered, I really am. But I’m with Noah now and—“

“You think I called to ask you out?”

“Well didn’t you?” Why else would he be calling?

“Geez, and people think
I
have an ego. They obviously haven’t met you.”

“Then why did you call? Looking for some free legal advice?”

“No, I called to give you some advice.”

“Really. About what? How to make the perfect crab cake?”
“How to stay away from two-timing assholes.”

“And you would be referring to?” Probably himself.

“Your new friend.”

“Noah? You called to tell me Noah’s cheating on me?”

“I called to tell you that if you think you’re exclusive, you’re not. Your boyfriend’s seeing someone else.”

This was low, even for Joe. “Assuming that’s true, and I don’t think it is, how would you even know? You just met the guy last night.”

“I overheard him talking to Ron in the kitchen. Your boyfriend’s so arrogant, he didn’t think twice about speaking in front of the hired help.”

 “And he just happened to tell Ron, ‘By the way, I’m cheating on Julie.’  How convenient.”

“No,” he said, straining to keep his voice even. “Ron asked him if you, or someone named Julie, I didn’t know it was you at the time, knew about Jean. Your boyfriend told him no. Then Ron said something about him playing a dangerous game, and I left.”

“Do you always eavesdrop on other people’s private conversations?”

“When they have them right in front of me, yes.”

“And you decided to share this with me, why?”

“Because when you introduced me to him and I knew you were the Julie he was talking about, I thought you would want to know. Especially since the two of you looked so close.”

Now I was the one fighting to keep my voice steady. “I don’t know why you would make something like this up, Joe, and I don’t care. Just do me a favor and lose my number.”

“Consider it done,” he said and slammed the phone down in my ear.

I didn’t believe him. But I also didn’t think he would stoop to lying just to split us up. What would be the point? He clearly had no interest in going out with me again—he’d told me that much. The incident with his car was months ago and I didn’t think he was the type to hold a grudge. Not for this long anyway. But maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.

The phone rang again. This time it was Noah.

* * *

Noah came to the door holding a bouquet of Stargazer Lilies. Not my favorite, but he was trying. “Where did you get the flowers? I thought your car was out of commission.”

“It is,” he said. “I rode my bike down to the florist.”

“Wow, all that effort for me. I’m impressed.”

“You should be. I haven’t ridden my bike in years.” Then he kissed me, short and sweet, and said, “I’ve decided that today is going to be all about you.”

I liked the sound of that.

Sweet & Sour

Noah directed me to a café on Santa Monica Boulevard. We sat on the outdoor patio and ate Belgian waffles and sugary French toast. It would’ve been very romantic were it not for the screaming two-year-old at the table next to us. But that wasn’t Noah’s fault.

By the time we finished breakfast at a quarter to two, we decided to skip the museum and the scenic drive in favor of a walk up to Sunset Plaza. After an hour of window-shopping at stores I couldn’t afford, Noah suggested we go back to his place so I could sample his self-proclaimed world famous cappuccino.

Twenty minutes later I followed Noah into his kitchen and watched him measure the coffee, add the water and push the button on his cappuccino-espresso coffee maker. I didn’t need Joe. I had Noah. He could cook, or at least make coffee, and he had a real job.

After Noah steamed the milk, he listened to the messages on his answering machine. This proved Joe was lying. Noah would never play his answering machine messages in front of me if he was cheating. His other girlfriend could’ve called.